Merci’s eyes widen, his mouth parting slightly. "That’s what Mom meant when she said you were . . .different."
I nod. "It's also why Viktor was drinking my milk. The damage affects how food tastes. Or doesn't taste at all."
His nose scrunches up. "Still don't like it."
A low chuckle escapes me. "He’s my friend. Get used to it."
Merci rolls his eyes and huffs. “Great. Should I be prepared for him to share all the deets of your sexual history too?”
“I’m well aware of your history with Raiyne.”
He narrows his eyes, lips pursed. “You fucked him too, jerkface. And you went psycho when I wore his jersey.”
My jaw clenches, molars grinding. “Didn’t fuck him, though sounds like you did.”
He deflates, and he pales, taking a step backward.
Fuck.
Is he about to puke again?
Shoving my hands into my pockets, I take a deep breath. If this is all going to shit anyway, might as well put all my cards on the table.
"I never really socialized much growing up. But when you and your mom moved in, everything changed. Iwas having difficulty processing it, so I went to a party. Thought maybe it’d help." My fingers curl into fists inside my pockets, nails digging into my palms. "Someone I’d played against in hockey was there. He knew about my food issues . . . and switched out my beer with piss. I couldn’t tell the difference."
Merci’s entire body goes rigid, his features scrunching as his face turns red. “That fucking piece of shit. What’s his name? I swear, I’ll—”
A small, lopsided smile tugs at my lips, fascinated by how he bristles like an angry cat, all fire and protectiveness. My little scorpion, ready to sting anyone who hurts me. It makes something warm swirl in my gut. “You’re a possessive little shit when you’re mad.”
His cheeks flush a deeper shade of red. “Shut up.”
“Maybe I need to collar you permanently. Keep you on a leash. Or do I actually need to invest in a muzzle.”
He whines, the sound high-pitched and indignant. A second later, he shakes his head and purses his lips. “You’re such an asshole.”
"Anyway, that's why I was crying. I don’t really do that and couldn’t figure out how to make it stop, so I got frustrated. Then you walked into my room . . .”
He takes my hand into his, intertwining it with mine. “Our parents should have given us the details about ourissues instead of generalizing them. Maybe none of this would’ve happened then.”
I don’t disagree with him. And while this conversation is important, more concerning is his shivering frame and the blue tinge to his lips. “You’re freezing. We need to get you inside.”
“I’m fine.”
His chattering teeth say otherwise.
"Inside. Now.” I step closer. "Besides, you still need to be punished for that stunt in the cafeteria."
His eyes narrow, and he crosses his arms.
"He's been watching out for me for years." I run my thumb along his bottom lip. "So, ease up."
Merci huffs, his breath fogging in the cold air as he leans into my touch. "Fine. But only because I’m taking over now."
"Is that so?"
"Yes." His eyes flash with defiance, even as he shivers. "Got a problem with that?"
I lean in close, my lips brushing against his ear. "Only that you think you're in charge here, Little Scorpion."
